SUNDAY, DECEMBER 9
As agreed in Genoa, Chloe would travel to Milan on Monday, so our first day in Barcelona was spent preparing. And we were tired. Though we are staying in a beautiful, spacious, well-located (near Gracias Metro stop), 3-bedroom family home, it is a floor above a busy restaurant that stays open almost all night. All day, I was dizzyingly tired.
GOOD FOOD TO START THE DAY
But we started the day with an excellent breakfast at Eat My Trip, run by Russian speakers and popular with Americans.
DETAILS OF TOMORROW
We planned Chloe’s day trip in detail, locating the bus stop across from the department store in Catalan Square where she would catch the airport bus, and realizing, too late, that her turnaround in Milan left little time for her to visit the agency. She would need to rush to get back to the airport for her return flight to Barcelona.
As we walked the broad boulevards and tree-lined streets I thought about how different Spain smelled from France. It smelled of fall here, a desert fall, like in Utah. Maybe trees in Barcelona are similar to those in Salt Lake City, Utah. Both cities are located in dry landscapes. Though December, it was sunny and mild, no winter coat necessary.
ALL THE LOGISTICS
We packed food, Chloe’s iPad with her modelling photos and some extra clothes. She practiced walking, the cat walk walk. Logistics aside, I was totally freaked out, unnerved by the uncertainty of our future travel plans that would be determined by the next day’s outcome, nervous about Chloe going on her own, agitated, and tense from sleep deprivation.
DEALING WITH MORE UNCERTAINTY
Another transition was on the horizon. Never a predictable course for Chloe and me. As I ate alone the day before, I thought how happy I am with this strange life we are leading. One of Maria Popova’s articles in brainpickings this past Sunday was about Annie Lamont. Popova praised her writing about shedding oneself of ego, giving up ideas of right and wrong. Lamont believes we need to strip ourselves of high held belief, live more honestly, and face our greatest fear – of loving.
Who is Lamont to say these things, I wondered. Is she white, does she come from money? Who is she to say how others should live? Who is anyone to say such things? I honestly wish I had a larger ego.
This is not about Barcelona. Or is Barcelona, this time, precisely about understand who we are.
